The Omega and The Arrogant Alpha (by Kylie) novel Chapter 216

The engine rattled like it might give up at any moment, a dry metallic clatter that vibrated up through the floorboards, but it held as Ben eased the stolen sedan down the narrow back road. Dawn bled slowly into the sky, pale light seeping through the treetops and washing the forest in thin gray bands. In daylight, the trees looked ordinary. Almost peaceful.

That felt like a lie I no longer trusted.

I kept my window cracked, letting the cold air burn my lungs every time I inhaled. The ache grounded me. I needed the sting. Needed something sharp enough to cut through the weight pressing on my chest, through the echo of boots on dirt and voices carrying commands meant to end me.

Somewhere miles behind us, Morgan was making decisions that would shift alliances, redraw boundaries, and expose truths packs had spent years pretending not to see.

I felt it through the bond before I heard her voice.

Not urgency.

Not fear.

Authority.

Her presence flared, steady and immovable, like stone rising through water. Then the link widened abruptly. Not just me this time. Others joined, each presence distinct. Multiple Alphas, each one a different pressure brushing against my awareness, like heavy doors opening in sequence along a long, guarded corridor.

An emergency council.

I straightened in my seat without thinking, spine pulling taut, instincts snapping into alignment. Ben glanced at me, reading the shift in my posture instantly.

“She’s convening,” he said.

“Yes.”

The sensation was overwhelming in a way I had never experienced before. This was not the formal councils with ritual, ceremony, and public theater. No grand halls. No witnesses. This was private. Allied. Wolves who trusted Morgan enough to bare their throats in the dark and speak truths that could not survive daylight.

Morgan’s voice carried clean and sharp through the bond, cutting through the layered presence of the others without effort.

“We have confirmed evidence of Alpha Silvermen ordering internal executions and authorizing a targeted kill attempt under false rogue claims.”

The reaction rippled outward immediately. Shock from some, raw and unguarded. Grim acknowledgment from others who had already suspected and chosen silence. I felt anger coil. Fear retreat. Calculation sharpen.

Ezra’s presence flared next, hot and immediate, like a struck match. “Then Savannah and Ben are brought home. Now. This second.”

My jaw tightened. Heat flared beneath my skin, instinct bristling at the attempt to remove me from the board.

Before I could respond, Morgan did.

“No.”

Morgan did not hesitate.

“Then hear this and remember it,” she said. “In private channels only, Alpha Silvermen is henceforth designated a rogue Alpha. This remains classified until we control the fallout.”

The bond tightened as the declaration rippled outward. Dangerous. Necessary. The kind of truth that could start a war if mishandled.

Morgan continued without pause, already moving pieces into place. “All allied packs will begin immediate surveillance of Silvermen’s trade routes. Monitor shipments. Delays. Disappearances. I want a map of his leverage points before he realizes how exposed he is.”

Acknowledgments followed, one by one. Commitment layered over resolve.

Ezra’s presence remained tense, coiled tight with restraint. “And Savannah?”

Morgan’s answer softened only slightly. “She stays in motion. Neutral territory. No pack borders. No engagement unless unavoidable.”

I felt her attention narrow, focusing on me directly, the rest of the council receding to background noise.

“Savannah,” she said, voice firm but threaded with something like pride. “You are not ordered back. You are ordered to survive.”

The link receded as the council dissolved, each Alpha peeling away to carry out their role, doors closing one by one.